|
|
Student Commencement Address 1992
Emily Courtois Mason
"Understanding Begins with C"
Today I hope to add a few C's to everyone's transcript.
Don't panic -- they won't lower your summa cum laude to
magna cum laude, nor disqualify you from Phi Beta Kappa.
Instead, they will transform your images of the women around
you. These three C's are an unlikely combination. The first
C is for circle, the second for comedy, the third for color.
I would like you to imagine a circle. Make it large
enough to be comfortable; we will be pushing it around a
bit. Draw a slice in the circle and put yourself inside.
Make another section for the woman on your right, and
another for the woman on your left. Make room for everyone
in the row in front of you squeeze in the row behind you --
with a space for each woman. Suspend the rules of
mathematics that insist that there are only 360 degrees in a
circle. Create a degree for each of the 534 women marching
in the class of 1992. Now each of us has a degree in our
circle, a degree of freedom.
Our circle began four years ago, as we all converged to
this point, this campus. Some of us raced in at breakneck
speeds, others begged to get back in the family station
wagon and return home, either way each one of us was an
equal part of this fledgling circle. Over the past four
years others have joined this circle, some as transfer
students and some as Davis Scholars. Our Wellesley
experience has stood at the focus of our circle, serving as
the nucleus. Wellesley has nourished and fine-tuned our life
long skills that are based on two premises. The first
concerns each of us responding to our own demands for
personal freedom: setting our goals; speaking our minds;
making our own choices; and standing firmly behind what we
believe- even if each individual's message is different. The
second is honoring the demands for personal freedom of the
women around us. We have learned to grant one another the
freedom to have a dissenting opinion, argue a controversial
point, practice an obscure religion. We have embraced one
another's differences and celebrated them. We have given
each other enough respect so that we are not afraid to be
the lone voice shouting in the darkness.
Wellesley will hand each of us a degree today, our own
degree of freedom that we have been cultivating within our
circle, a Bachelor of Arts. Whether the major is Astronomy
or Art History, English or Economics, Greek or Geology, the
diplomas are all the same- signed by Nan, with each of our
names on the black line. Each degree represents widely
varying knowledge. None of them are equal. None of them
should be. Each has been hand crafted by an amazing
individual, who challenged herself, pursued new passions,
came to know intimately the subjects at hand. This is the
degree of freedom each one of us has given ourselves.
As we sit together this morning, we all have a different
view of what lies outside our circle. The physical landscape
is the same, but the impression it leaves on each of us is
determined by the individual. We each need a degree of
freedom to describe what we see in our own words and in our
own languages. Now, as we begin our journey outward, leaving
this place, we will expand our circle. Some will leave this
afternoon, others at the end of the summer, each in her own
way, at her own pace. We need to grant one another an
individual degree of freedom to move and bend and change
throughout our lives in which ever direction we need to go-
left, right, up, down, or upside-down. Our circle will
expand in bumps and jerks. It will not always grow smoothly,
but it should always remain connected -- no matter if your
classmate is getting married in June, or landing on the moon
-- support one another --keep the circle strong. This is my
first charge to the class of 1992 -- remain connected. Honor
one another's degrees of freedom. Sustain the circle.
The second C is for comedy. At Wellesley we strive to
succeed at all costs. We set our sights on 100% perfection
and nothing less. Yet with this intensity, this incredible
drive, some things have gotten lost along the way. Somewhere
during these past four years we have misplaced our quick and
carefree laughter, our appreciation for the humor in the
mundane, and our acknowledgment that comedy needs to be an
integral part of who we are.
Comedy does not simply mean crude jokes, slap stick
humor, or terrible puns. Comedy can be witty -- no less
intelligent than the thoughtful conversations in which we
often immerse ourselves. Comedy can help us see the
absurdities in life. It lets us take ourselves less
seriously. It makes us feel better, both physically and
emotionally. And it aids us in tense situations to reduce
conflict (1). Comedy is a sign of great creativity- a trait
I believe we all already possess.
Comedy is no laughing matter. I realize sounds like a
contradiction, but truly it is not. A perfect example of
this is MIT where humor is taken very seriously. They even
have a chair of humor -- associate provost Samuel J. Keyser
(2). MIT students have a long tradition of practical jokes
that ultimately were modeled and displayed in the campus
museum -- and a historical chronicle has been written to
document these adventurous achievements.
Why comedy at Wellesley has fallen by the wayside or
simply been devalued, I do not know. My only quotation of
this speech today is taken from Roger Rabbit, the title
character in the film "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?". For a
cartoon mammal, he has incredible insight on human nature.
He comments that "...a laugh can be a very powerful thing,
why sometimes in life, it is the only weapon we have. Why
laughter is the most imp.." (3) and here he is interrupted.
Thus, my second charge to the class of 1992 is to urge each
of us to complete this sentence for ourselves- Laughter is
the most important... And in so doing return comedy to a
prominent place in our lives.
Now for the-last C. I would like you to close your eyes
and imagine the color blue- everywhere in your mind -- just
blue. Fix it there- we will return to it in a moment or two.
Open your eyes. Color is C number three. We have spent the
last few weeks in intense dialog with one another,
exchanging ideas about what color we are, and how that has
shaped our lives. In thinking about our conversations, I
realized that white, black, brown, red, or yellow are not
very descriptive terms for the beauty that exists in skin
tones. People are not black or white. If we were, our faces
would be made up of black dots and blank spaces just like
those on The Wall Street Journal. And I can assure you --
looking across the class of 1992 -- you look nothing like 27
rows of newspaper. We are much more vibrant than that. We
all have experiences that remain inside of us that create an
inner glow that cannot be categorized by the color of our
skin.
Another problem with color is that it has one name -- yet
there are endless shades associated with each one. I'd like
to give you an example. Last spring, during finals, three
women sat on the roof of the observatory at dawn- trying to
remain awake after eating Oreos all night while cramming for
a physics final. As we sat there, our stomach aching, we
marveled in the peaceful dawn at the glorious colors of
sunrise. That is, we did until the brawl broke out -- for
none of us could agree on the
yellowish-reddish-orangish-pinkish tones reflected in the
wispy clouds. The colors were not enough- we had to move
into shades and hues. One argued peach, another salmon and
the third nectarine. All of us were sure we were right, none
of us were willing to change [but trust me, it was
nectarine]. Now if we cannot agree on the color of sunrise
-- how can we ever describe the people of the earth under
one or two or five umbrella terms?
Ok- so maybe sunrise is a bit tricky you say -- maybe it
truly is a mixture of many colors -- so let's return to
something simple. Blue.
Remember that blue you imprinted in your memory earlier?
Bring it back to mind now. What color blue did you think of?
Was it Turquoise blue? Sapphire blue? The bright blue of
Wellesley publications? Ocean storm blue? Baby blue? Navy
blue? Crayola's own violet-blue or blue-violet? Each of us
is individual enough to imagine our own blue, which is a
composite of our life experiences. Chances are- I am
different enough from all of you to come up with my own
blue. My blue is the blue that you see at the far edge of
sunset. Just less than an hour after the sun disappears, the
fiery orangish-reddish-purplish colors remain in the west --
a final testimony to the day. But if you follow the sky
upward, overhead, and then look east- the blue is
breathtaking. It is a deep, magnificent, royal blue, a
velvety blue in which twinkling stars are just beginning to
shine through. It is not the dark black blue of midnight,
but the deep indigo that signifies the beginning of night.
This is the blue that I see in my mind. The blue that I
believe in.
That is my inner hue- my signature color. It describes
the passion I have for my chosen field of study, Astronomy.
To know that about me tells you much more than the color of
my skin. So do not judge a woman by her skin color. Do not
assume her color is the only determining factor of her soul.
Probe deeper, investigate further- discover what events have
shaded her life, find out if her hue is lime green, burnt
orange or shocking pink. As a class, we may be referred to
as simply red, but my third charge to the class of 1992 is:
dare to ask "what is your hue?"
I am done adding C's to your transcript. Granted they
will not be placed on your official Wellesley College
record, but I hope they will become a permanent part of who
you are. These C's were not meant to challenge you to become
a CEO, or inspire you to run in the next presidential
election. These C's are meant to be ground rules for the
rest of our lives. They are simple practices that we can all
employ to help us understand our neighbors, our co-workers,
our families and even our adversaries. If everyone did,
perhaps two adjacent states would communicate more, which
could lead to bordering countries that could understand one
another a little better. So that ultimately, we could
connect with each other on a global scale.
For what more is this earth than a giant circle made of
many beautiful smiling hues?
***
References
1. 'Ibis, James L. Working Seriously with a Sense of
Humor, Olympia, Washington: humor workshop, 1991.
2. Staff, Mark. Revenge of the Slide Rulers. Newsweek 15
April 1991: 67.
3. Spielberg, Steven. dir. Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
Touchstone Pictures, 1987.
***
EMILY COURTOIS MASON STUDENT COMMENCEMENT SPEAKER
A resident of Olympia, Washington, Emily Courtois Mason
is an astronomy major at Wellesley College with a minor in
physics. Author of an honors thesis on "The Rings of
Uranus," she plans to work this summer and fall with
Professor Richard French under a NASA grant for further
study of Uranus. She will also teach half-time in the
Physics Department this fall as a lab instructor. She
achieved First Year Distinction and in each of her first
three years she taught introductory night lab at the Whitin
Observatory. She has been an advisor and also student
coordinator of the APLUSS Program, a Wellesley College
academic assistance program, and spent last summer working
at the Infrared Telescope Facility in Mauna Kea., Hawaii.
Recently inducted into Sigma Pi Sigma, the National Physics
Honor Society, she plans eventually to pursue a Ph.D. in
astrophysics.
|